


across the pillow

by soliloquium



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Banter, Friends With Benefits, Gay, Gilbert beldishmidt, Luciano Barsotti - Freeform, M/M, Morning After, PruIta - Freeform, aph, except they're not rly friends, gil's both mature and lonely enough to try n use his words, luci is not compliant, snarky relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 01:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soliloquium/pseuds/soliloquium
Summary: will I wake to find it empty?They're stuck in a loop of addiction that leads to the bed every time. The problem is that it's more than skin.It's the bones.Gilbert, Luciano and how to not do a relationship.





	across the pillow

**Author's Note:**

> an attempt to get into writing again. and to get out my lucigil feels. this is horrifically written at three am as always bear w me,my dear readers, it will maybe get better. maybe.

"So we meet again."  
  
"In your bedroom. Yes. What a plot twist.  Who knew the sex ended in awkward mornings in one of debutants bedrooms.  
  
Gil stared at him, still a little mystified. Sixth time this week. And it was a Friday. Maybe that’s why it didn’t feel alien. But it hadn’t felt alien the first time either. Legs against his own. The soft, unmistakable heat. The sigh of the mattress under someone else's weight. Two brown eyes. Boring into his own in the morning. Molten lava and something Gil didn’t feel like reading because the sex yesterday had been good sex. Great sex. Amazing sex. The sort so beautifully unrealistic it was only found in reader inserts with sonic the hedge hog.   
  
Bad comparison.   
  
"Is this awkward?" Gilbert asked, brushing his feet against one of Luci's limbs. Whichever one. It was hard to tell when the blanket was so thick it felt like a friendly cartoon bear had decided to hug them both to near suffocation. Weird simile but really Gil's mind was a jungle of shitty pop culture references with a tiny village of an ancient civilization in the corner representing his forensic prowess and.   
  
And. He was on the floor. And his head hurt like a bitch.   
  
Luci peered at him from the bed lazily, disdain written across his face in black ink. An entitled cat of a man Tiger maybe. Fucking vicious with smears of Gil's blood still on his face. It was a good look on him.   
  
Gil's heart was an ant that was being demolished by a steam roller. Fuck.  
  
"You. You are such an-"  
  
"Your feet were cold. And if you're going to insult me, come up with something more creative than asshole please. It’s entirely inaccurate. Especially considering our positions last night."  
  
His lungs were on fire. In a good way. Gilbert disliked this immensely.  
  
"I hate you."  
  
"The feeling is mutual Schmidt. I thought we made it clear last night but maybe you were too busy mewling to hear properly."  
  
Last night was a jumbled mix of black and white photographs, all fuzzy and blurred at the edges with alcohol. The noise a staccato, almost static, mumbling of harsh words that were little more than plastic knives. They'd been drinking. They always did. Or pretended to at least, a courtesy hand curled tensely around a jug of beer. Mistakes like these could never be committed when superficially sober.  
  
Gil kicked the bed in angry protest only for it to not even wobble in return. Luci stared down at him. Unmentioned triumph.  
  
The carpet under his naked skin felt itchy and craved bed sheets but his ceiling was a comforting dark blue with tacky plastered glow in the dark stars. He'd bought them years ago, trying to recreate the feeling of chilly nights with nothing but the open, vast sky and the cosmos above him. It hadn't worked. But they still felt childish enough to give him some would-be nostalgia. It was fun to pretend to be human sometimes. He'd buy photograph holders only to keep the place holders in. Dog and bubbles. Man and wife. Child with sibling. All picture perfect like how liked to imagine humans as.  
  
Besides it was safe. From Luciano.   
  
No.   
  
From the feelings that came with being near Luciano.   
  
Gilbert added his self help book to the growing list of things he would burn when he became dictator. He preferred denial. It was prettier.   
  
But really. Six times. One week. Twentieth time this month. Fifth sixth time in the last two and a half. Shit.   
  
"Luci, I have horrifying news."  
  
"Do tell." His voice was dry. Mocking. Gilbert hated how attracted he was to it. He had a type. A very specific type and that type was people with high self preservation instincts and who could throw shade at him like it was exhaling.   
  
"I think we're in a relationship."  
  
"I disagree"  
  
Gilbert felt a little stab of irritation at how cavalier his voice was. Forget burning lungs, Gil was annoyed, "you can't disagree, you little bitch, you're the one that kissed me."  
  
"And you're the one that jumped me," Luci plucked up a book from Gil's bedside table. His fingers turned the pages to a memorized number. (This was the fifth one. How many times had Luci sat there, his hands on Gil's book, inhaling the words before Gilbert woke up at noon. Calm breathing and the sound of paper crackling gently. Sometimes he'd pretend to be asleep. Sometimes Luci would pretend to not realize. Sometimes, he'd read aloud. The words a symphony of some macabre story written a few hundred years ago. Kafka. Goethe. Dickens. Grimm, even, if Luci felt generous.)  
  
Gilbert flushed.  His alcohol soaked brain had the tendency to do things Gilbert had only imagined in dreams. And to shove away whatever shame he had into a trash can, douse it in gasoline and burn it. Fuck, had he really pushed Luci against a wall in public?   
  
"Initiation over vigor."  
  
"Gilbert, we were literally under a mistletoe."  
  
"Luci, we are literally living in July."   
  
"Stop being anti Christian."   
  
"The mistletoe isn’t Christian. And I’m going to tell tumblr how ignorant you are and there’s going to be a mob of angry teenage girls outside your door next Tuesday. A lot of them will be feminists. You should be very afraid."  
  
A page turn, "Gilbert, stop pretending to get with the times. Tumblr isn’t a real thing and you’re like a thousand older than me."  
  
"Could be more you never know," Gilbert wiggled at him teasingly, "The white hair says things that my body doesn’t."  
  
"Trust me. Your body spoke to me enough last night. I don’t need to hear anymore secrets."  
  
Gilbert sat up. Put his arm on the bed and plopped his head on it. Staring at the stupidly beautiful men in front of him. Inches away. A little movement and he could poke his eyes out. Or kiss him.   
  
"You’re breathing on me."  
  
Definitely poke his eyes out.  
  
"Your tongue was in my mouth last night I think you can withstand this hygiene transgression," Gilbert deadpanned.   
  
 Silence settled on them. It was six am and the world was still waking up. Gil lived in a lonely house. There was no foot steps. No water faucet. No morning news that was less news and more a democratic gossip fest buzzing downstairs. No coffee cups and news papers left on the table.   
  
"So."  
  
"So."  
  
"Dating."  
  
"I would literally kill you within five days."  
  
"I'm willing to take that chance."  
  
"It's not a chance. It's a promise."  
  
"Even better."  



End file.
